


If You Knew More

by Vashti (tvashti)



Series: SPS [7]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Mercy Thompson Series - Patricia Briggs
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, August 2019 TwistedShorts Ficathon, Community: twistedshorts, F/M, Female Friendship, Gen, Leah Not Being Awful, Male Friendship, Married Couple, Married Life, Power Dynamics, Werewolf Politics, some proofreading we die liek mne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:56:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22023706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tvashti/pseuds/Vashti
Summary: Oz's Aunt Maureen has a saying: "If you knew more, you'd say less."
Relationships: Bran Cornick/Leah Cornick, Daniel "Oz" Osbourne/Buffy Summers
Series: SPS [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1130723
Kudos: 24
Collections: TwistedShorts





	If You Knew More

**Author's Note:**

> This is all [AvaMclean’s](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaMclean/pseuds/AvaMclean) fault. After “Summers in Montana” she wrote: "You do realize I want some Buffy and Leah interactions. Possibly over pie while Bran wonders how his mate gets along so well with her and Oz is gets it cause he's Oz and he gets most things. :)"
> 
> Written for the August 2019 TwistedShorts FAD over on livejournal. It’s been revised for clarity, but it’s mostly unchanged.

If they had been in an anime version of the annual Polson Cherry Festival and not the actual one, Buffy's eyes would have alternately bugged out past her head, then turned into giant throbbing hearts. All of the wolves near enough to witness her reaction was amused. A few even mistakenly decided her enthusiastic enthusiasm was a sign that the Slayer wasn't nearly as scary as the stories made her out to be.

Bran, older than everyone at the festival, questionably wiser, certainly as devious if not moreso, and possessing features more akin to an undergrad art major than the leader of all the werewolves on the North American continent, wondered if she might be more dangerous than the stories let on. He knew quite a bit about letting the tales told by others do the work of hiding for you.

There was no story of the Slayer, not the ones he himself had told or had heard, that could have prepared him for Buffy...and his wife bonding over pie. The Slayer's affect was classic California girl, which she seemed to tune to the situation as need. All in all, however, it made for a generally agreeable first impression, if an inaccurate estimation of her intelligence.

Leah in contrast could certainly be polite, even cordial, but her wolf was too dominant to ever willingly pretend to be anything less than fiercely intelligent, and her human self was too vain to ever be meek.

And yet for over an hour, Bran and Oz, the Slayer's omega werewolf boyfriend, had been trailing after the pair of blonds like men who had dared to marry close-knit sisters. Bran had at first assumed that Oz's presence was the facilitating factor in the relationship. He was, after all, an omega wolf.

Dominant wolves were driven to protect others and prove themselves. Content in both their place in the world and who they were, submissive wolves had nothing to prove which often led them to giving way before their dominant counterparts. Incredibly rare and special, Omegas were neither driven to prove themselves nor compelled to give way. They understood both sides without being bound to either. In their presence, the wild beast that lived in every werewolf could rest. Omegas were peace.

The effect was most obvious among the two-natured, but all omegas had once been fully human themselves. Except for very small children and the absolutely mad, they brought peace to any and everyone that came within their sphere of influence.

(It was unthinkable that any sane werewolf would be able to inflict the amount of damage it took to turn a fully human omega. It was the primary reason why there were so few. Well over half of the wolves under Bran's control were dominant to some degree. Nearly all the rest were submissive. For purposes of statistics, Bran's son didn't bother to include the omegas, instead adding them as a footnote in small print at the bottom of colorful graphs.)

So if anyone could get the gregarious Slayer and Bran's ascerbic wife together peaceably, it would be the omega wolf. Except it was Oz who was regularly left behind at the house Bran had loaned the Slayer for the month when both she and Leah wanted to go into Troy to shop. And Oz had been nowhere in sight the night Bran had "caught" both women sitting near each other on the back porch, wrapped up in light blankets against the cool Montana evening and chuckling. More than once both Buffy and Oz had come to Bran's house, only for Leah to leave her work and for Buffy ("I’m stealing your wife to go sunbathing on my shway sunroof. 'Kaythanksbye!") to leave Oz behind ("I hear you play?").

It was Leah who grabbed Buffy's hand to introduce her to Sage, her closest friend in the pack.

So it wasn't Oz. And it wasn't Buffy's sunny California disposition. Leah had broken sunnier.

Trailing behind his wife and mate and their summer guest, Bran was... Content was too strong a word for what he felt. Resigned, then. Bran was resigned to not understanding the working parts of Leah's and Buffy’s friendship, but as it had been near the top of his concerns for the upcoming negotiations, he could only be happy that it worked. And do everything in his power to make it last.

* * *

The Osbourne family had a motto. It was unspoken, of course, but Oz had yet to meet any of his far-flung family members who didn’t live by it. The only time he’d heard it spoken by a member of the family was when he and his parents had spent a weekend in LA visiting his father’s sister, Aunt Maureen.

Oz could still feel the wrinkle between his childish brows, watching an old man tear into a candy bar he'd fished from a garbage can, after piling bottles and cans into a store shopping cart. "Ew, what's he doing that for? It's gross."

Somehow only he and Aunt Maureen had been the ones to see the old man. Smiling with what Oz would later hear his father call her sad eyes, she had gently and firmly run a finger across his brows and down his nose, smoothing out all the wrinkles. "If you knew more, Daniel Osborne, you'd say less."

(It was the first time Oz remembered hearing his aunt quote the family credo, but certainly not the last. It would still be a few years before he realized that his aunt's favorite saying was the Osborne way of life, but he never forgot.)

That Thanksgiving, for the first time, Oz's family had joined the still single Maureen at her church's soup kitchen where she was a regular volunteer. He said very little.

"Hey, we're going to the bathroom,” Buffy told Bran as they all stood under a red-striped awning. “We'll be right backish."

Bran and not Oz, because Oz's wolf wouldn't be offended by perceived disrespect. Buffy not Leah because, with the two B's functionally having the same rank, her words were less likely to be considered a challenge with their implied order to wait in place.

"If we're not here when you get back, check the ice cream stand," was Bran's reply.

"Perf!" Then she slipped her arm into Leah's, and together they strode off towards the ever growing line for the women's restrooms.

Bran shook his head.

Oz nodded in agreement. "S'not fair."

Confused, Bran turned to look at Oz. "What's not fair."

Oz met his eyes. "There's never enough bathrooms for girls?"

Obviously he and Bran had not been on the same wavelength. Oz watched him blink it out for a moment, until Bran started to chuckle. “You’re right. The lack of restroom facilities for women and girls is deplorable, but that’s not what I was talking about. I meant the two of them. Leah and Buffy.”

Oz frowned. “What about them?”

Bran’s eyebrows rose, then he crossed his arms and really studied Oz. “Their connection doesn’t surprise you, does it.”

“Is it supposed to?”

“Surprises me.”

Oz frowned again. “Really? Hmm.”

“What do you see that I don’t? Or can’t.” At Oz’s quirked eyebrow, Bran puffed a small laugh and added, “Or won’t.”

“No offense, but that’s for me to know and you to figure out.”

Bran’s puff of laughter grew into the real thing. “It’s a good thing you’re an omega.”

“Was that a bare-your-throat-or-have-it-ripped-out offense?”

“Could be,” Bran said with genuine good humor.

“Huh. I never can tell.”

“I’ve never met an omega who could.” Bran clapped Oz on the back. “Lets get that ice cream. The girls will appreciate a treat when they get off the line

Oz clapped him back. “There just might be hope for you, man.”

* * *

“You don’t like my honey bunny much, do you,” Buffy said into the still mountain air much later that night. She and Leah were on Buffy’s borrowed sun deck, wrapped in light blankets on the same lawn chairs they’d been using as tanning beds.

Leah glanced over at Buffy, a brow creasing her strong feature. “Huh?”

“My honey bunny. Boo bear. Sweetie pie. My scrumdidlyumptious. Sugar--” Buffy stopped herself, pressing a horrified hand to her chest. “I’ve been possessed by Anya’s ghost.”

Which sent Leah giggling into her cup of cocoa. “I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Sighing, Buffy put down her own cup of chocolate to look at her host. “Oz. You don’t like Oz.” She made it statement, because the real question was, “Why?”

Leah scowled--admittedly not unfamiliar look on the other blond woman’s face--refusing to answer for a long time. If Oz had been in the house behind them, she might have refused altogether, but he’d volunteered to go down to the clinic to visit some of the patients (mostly human) with his guitar and his special brand of comfort. Eventually Leah sighed and plopped her mug next to Buffy’s with a loud click.

“He makes me feel.” Before Buffy could jump in with a semi-snarky reply she added, “He makes it so I have to be honest. Too honest. With myself. With whoever else is there...” She turned to Buffy, catching her eyes for a moment before habit had them sliding away. “I worked hard on my walls, and in an instant they’re gone when Oz is around.”

Reaching across the distance between them, Buffy took Leah’s hand in her own. “It’s not the worst thing in the world to love your husband.”

“When the monster inside of him is a ravening beast that will destroy the world if it’s not kept on a tight leash? A leash your husband is dead set on holding, and you are dead set on helping him maintain...”

Buffy squeezed the hand in her own. “I never told you about my first boyfriend, Angel, did I?” When Leah shook her head she added, “Yeah, he was, _is_ , a 200-plus year old master vampire, rocking a gypsy curse that gave him a soul. A soul that has the very minor loophole that if he ever felt a moment of pure happiness he would lose his curse-induced soul and revert back to who he had been when he was cursed. The Scourge of Europe.”

Leah’s eyes locked onto Buffy’s. She squeezed the smaller blond’s hand. And together they watched the stars do their slow dance across the sky.

[in]Fin[ite]


End file.
